


It's Always Been You

by patronsaintofthedenial



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Human Castiel, Hurt Castiel, M/M, POV Castiel, POV Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-05 13:57:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16368896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patronsaintofthedenial/pseuds/patronsaintofthedenial
Summary: By the time Dean found him, the pills had already kicked in.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this story comes from a poem by Cindy Octaviany (http://www.kanekin.co/news/554_its-always-been-you.html). It belongs to a bigger story I'm still trying to figure out, but here is my work in progress of how much I like to study the way Cas and Dean love each other. I hope you enjoy it!

_You can’t fix it_

_But you can put your arms_

_Around my arms_

_And wordlessly_

_Let me remember_

_That no matter what,_

_I won’t be_

_Forgotten._

 

\- Tyler Knott Gregson

 

By the time Dean found him, the pills had already kicked in. It made living almost bearable and he allowed himself to smile, not even surprised when the sound of that familiar voice came out with a hint of concern, so sweet it was almost as if he cared enough for him to come and check if he was still alive, or if he had finally swallowed enough pills to let himself drift off and never come back.

 

That would have been nice, right? 

 

He smiled, and tried to drown in the sound of that voice, the very same voice he would have followed to the end of times. Maybe he had done just that, but it was too late to consider the list of possible mistakes he had done. Then, there were only the pills, and the dreams of a life where nothing was like real life was.

 

And Dean, of course. It had always been about Dean.

 

There were days where all he could think of was Dean. His smile, that once disappeared and never came back. The light inside the green of his eyes, between the golden specks that always caught his attention, had been gone for so long that he couldn’t even remember it, the same way he couldn’t remember the weight of his own wings on his back, that he missed very dearly. That man they all followed, the man he still cared about so much he didn’t allow himself to die, so he could protect him even when he didn’t have anything else left to give, that man was not the one he had gripped tight and raised from perdition, he wasn’t the human who had taught him so much, becoming the only real home and family he had ever had. That Dean Winchester, the leader and the soldier, wasn’t more than a shell of what he used to be.

 

And oh, Father, what a way to break his feeble heart.

 

He missed him, the same way he missed himself. There was a time where Dean wasn’t a stranger, and then, when Castiel’s blue eyes looked for his and didn’t find anything at all, he’d realise that there was nothing for him to save, not anymore. Maybe he was no longer useful, which would explain why Dean didn’t look for him the way he did before the beginning of the end, or maybe he was the one who needed to be saved since the moment they met. However, there was no one to answer to his questions, and he didn’t have the answers anymore. All he knew was that he would stay next to him, until he wasn’t anymore.

 

Some people in the camp believed that he was still an angel. He never denied it, and no one dared to ask him why he didn’t use his Grace anymore. Even though he was somehow respected among those who were still surviving, no one seemed to care enough about him. They would turn to him looking for answers, and he would just laugh and try to paint a picture where the end was something bearable, where Dean saved the day as the leader he was and Lucifer and the Croatoan virus were nothing but a very long and particularly horrible nightmare. In just a few months, those meetings with those who were desperate enough to come to him became something else. Castiel, who once had been the most admired and remarkable soldier in Heaven, was not proud of that. He was then reduced to a poor excuse of a mentor, who used his position to drown himself in all the pleasures the human flesh could long for. However, there wasn’t much left for him in that forsaken land, if he wanted to live to see another day.

 

Another day in which Dean would be as distant as the day before. Sex with strangers and drugs don’t seem like a bad idea when there is nothing else to hold on to.

 

He heard his name again, this time close enough for him to acknowledge it as something that was taking place around him. All he thought he had heard before was true, and that was somehow unsettling. Did something happen to Dean? Was he too drugged to even try to do something the only time he could truly be useful?

 

But he stopped asking. Because none of that was true.

 

“Dean?”, he asked, once he opened his eyes, because he couldn’t even believe it. His voice was broken, like everything else in him.

 

“Cas, what happened to you?”, asked Dean, and it was really him.

 

Of all the things Dean had seen on his way to that place, that had to be the worst. It didn’t even matter that he had almost died twice: that wasn’t too bad considering his everyday life and perhaps that could’ve been better than finding Cas, not the same Cas he knew but one who looked like him enough to make him feel a sharp pain across his chest, half unconscious on the floor, his eyes not even able to focus, once he finally looked at him, pupils dilated to the point that the blue of his irises wasn’t more than a thin line surrounding them. Cas smiled, as if he hadn’t seen him in a very long time, and one of his hand found his way to Dean’s face, who was crouching next to his body.

 

“You can’t be real”, he almost laughed, but there was no joy in that. He seemed to ignore Dean’s question, but he didn’t insist.

 

“I’m here”, Dean answered, not sure of what to say to Cas’ remark.

 

“You’re not the Dean I know”. And that wasn’t a question.

 

His voice sounded even more broken that time, as if he was about to cry. Cas found the strength within himself to finally sit down. Real or not, he couldn’t look at him for too long. It just hurt too much.

 

“You’re not the Cas I know either”, answered Dean, softly.

 

Even though he was still able to see his own Cas in him, the man in front of him was completely different from the angel he knew. Not only was he painfully human, but he looked extremely tired, with baggy clothes that nothing had to do with his trademark trench coat and suit, his hair messy and greasy and a beard he had not shaven since probably a couple of weeks, maybe more. He was sitting down on the floor, his hands covering his eyes, and all Dean could think of was how miserable he looked. What could have broken an angel like that?

 

“How did you get here?”, asked Cas. He didn’t look at him, as if he was refusing to accept the fact that he was very much real.

 

“I was sent from the past”, said Dean, not wanting to get into too much detail about how Zachariah had sent him there so he could see what would happen if he still refused to help the angels fight Lucifer.

 

“Which year?”.

 

“2009”.

 

“Oh, you must be asking yourself a lot of questions”.

 

Truth be told, all Dean had in mind at that moment was Cas.

 

“What happened to you?”, he finally dared to ask again. Cas laughed, as if he had just told him the funniest joke in the world.

 

“Life”, he said. That was the longest conversation he had had with Dean in years. The mere thought almost made him cry. 

 

He sure as hell wasn’t his Dean, but he was the Dean he had fallen in love with.

 

“Man, I’m a jerk in this universe”, said Dean, more to himself than to Cas. He seemed to be trying to change the subject, because he was still Dean, and Dean didn’t like to talk about feelings, his or someone else’s, but even though that made  Cas laugh again, more than before, that was an even more depressing remark.

 

“He… you weren’t always like that”, sighed Cas, once the laughter died. He didn’t know why he had decided to talk about his Dean as if the man who was standing in front of him was the very same person. It made things easier, somehow. “I wasn’t always like this, either. But you… you blame yourself for everything that happened”.

 

“Because I didn’t say yes to Michael”, completed Dean.

 

Castiel nodded and he finally dared to look into Dean's eyes. He felt a shiver down his spine like something he had never felt before. When did that spark leave his Dean's eyes? As happened with the Dean he knew, his eyes showed that he had seen some horrible things, but even then, that Dean's eyes had something in them that reminded Cas of hope, hope of doing things right, hope of saving the world and his helpless little brother.

 

All those dreams were long dead in that world.

 

"I wish there was still a way to make you understand that this was bound to happen. There was no other way", he said, in a way that demonstrated that he had thought about that more than he would like to admit. "I feel so damn useless", he added with a sigh, and was then that he realised how the use of that vocabulary had had an effect on Dean, who was still too used to his angel. It was somehow sweet.

 

"You're not an angel anymore". Of course, he immediately knew. Any version of Dean would know right away. Not even with his Grace gone and the wrong Dean, would his profound bond disappear.

 

"People only need to believe I'm still an angel", he shrugged, as if he didn't miss his wings every single day of his miserable existence.

 

"Does anyone else know?", asked Dean, as if that mattered.

 

"Dean knows", he answered. "My Dean", he added, which made Dean feel something he had not felt before. "I think it was then when he became... what he is now".

 

That hurt Dean in more ways than Cas could imagine. Even though that other version of himself had changed to the point it was almost unrecognisable for Dean, he still cared about Cas more than words could describe. Seeing Cas reduced to a weak human who depended on drugs to survive would have destroyed him too, even if the end of the world wasn't taking place. God, that wasn't even his own Cas and he was feeling his heart breaking into a million pieces. For the first time since he had appeared in that reality, he felt sorry for the other Dean, even if he was more of a coward than he was. However, that thought was quickly substituted by a whole different and new one:

 

Cas didn't know.

 

Cas, who was still as naive as he had always been, thought that Dean had forgotten about him for good. He was broken beyond repair, and even though it was so obvious he really wanted to surrender to that dreadful existence, he still survived because someone needed to look after Dean, even if he didn't love him anymore. Love. Was there ever love, anyways?

 

It had taken Dean what seemed to be a lifetime to come to that conclusion. Of course, he had rejected that thought completely, the first time it came to his mind. Cas was not only an angel, but he had a male vessel. Dean, after too many nights filled with too different women, was sure that he wasn't gay and that he very much enjoyed female company. Still, that didn't explain why his heart almost escaped his chest every time the angel appeared, every time he stared at him as if he was looking inside his very soul, a pair of blue eyes that never left his mind at all. It was a constant battle, a battle that he was still quietly fighting against himself, but his feelings for Cas were perhaps the most real thing he had ever felt. However, and as Cas had made very obvious, his 2014 version was still denying his feelings: there was no way for them to know they were in love with each other because no one dared to tell the truth.

 

"It's okay, Dean", said Cas, after a long moment of silence and the concerned look on Dean's face.

 

Dean seemed to be very far away from there, reflecting on things Cas couldn't even imagine because they only happened in his dreams, those that he was able to have when life decided to have some mercy on him, even if those were always the nights he would wake up crying, longing for a life he wouldn't be able to have. It was too late for that.

 

"It's not like we could change things now". Although Cas tried to sound as reassuring as possible, he seemed to be anything but okay. Then again, Dean didn't need Cas to speak up his mind for him to know.

 

"You're not okay, Cas", said Dean, getting closer to him.

 

"Does it matter?", answered Cas, with that sad smile back on his face.

 

"Of course, it does. Sammy and you, you were always all that mattered".

 

It felt weird to say that, when all he wanted to say was that he loved him like he had never loved anyone before and like he knew he would never love again, but there was still that something inside him that kept drowning the words within him. He had always hated himself, because he wouldn't be Dean Winchester if he didn't, but that was probably the one time he did it the most.

 

"What matters now is to defeat Lucifer", said Cas. He tried to get away from Dean, feeling his chest starting to ache like it hadn't in a very long time, but Dean took him by one of his wrists and pulled him closer, as if he was determined not to let him go until he believed in what he was saying.

 

"No", he just said, staring into Cas' eyes like he didn't dare to do earlier. They were still the prettiest blue he had ever seen, vibrant as the sky on a sunny day even if its light was dimmed, almost completely gone. Those were the eyes who made him believe, even if it was only for a fraction of a second, that he was worth saving.

 

And somewhere in that lifetime, he had forgotten to return the favour.

 

Dean's hands moved from his sides to cup Cas' face, taking a moment to appreciate the differences between that new Cas, those that went beyond his clothes, hair and beard. There were his eyes, of course: he had been contemplating them for the longest time, but even then, he couldn't bring himself to stop doing so. However, those weren't the only things he was able to notice: Cas was too human then to still looking the celestial way Dean's Cas did. There were some wrinkles in his face he didn't remember, shadows of emotions the heavenly warrior was unable to feel just yet. There were small cuts on his chapped lips, open wounds that worked as tiny reminders of his lost Grace. There were some new spots on his face, freckles like small galaxies that the burning sun had created on his skin, as if his humanity had turned him into a blank canvas for God and Nature to use as they pleased.

 

"You must think I'm pathetic", said Cas, in the midst of Dean's pure adoration of his features. "I used to be something else. Something beautiful. Now...".

 

"You are still beautiful", whispered Dean, so scared of his own words he felt like the child he had never had the chance to be.

 

"You are still... you. No Grace can change that. And if you think for a moment that's not enough, you are wrong”. It was almost funny, Dean saying almost the same thing Cas had been telling him since the day they met. Maybe, seeing Cas like that was even more painful than expected because, in a way, he reminded him a bit about himself. “You weren't beautiful because you were an angel. God, I didn't need you because of that. Cas, you're the only one who always made me feel different, who always was there, even when I didn't deserve it. I don't know if I can still change my future, but if my time comes to be on that son of a bitch's place, I won't let you think I don't care about you, not even for a second".

 

And again, those three words he had been dying to say since he realised he was in love with Cas got stuck in his throat, at the right moment.

 

However, it was time for a change of heart.


	2. Chapter 2

_Is this the this_

_we wanted_

_when all we spoke of_

_was the that that would_

_come after all the that_

_we endured?_

_Is this that this,_

_is there more than this,_

_or is this_

_the that_

_that we've waited_

_for?_

\- Tyler Knott Gregson

 

Cas' hands found the fabric of Dean's shirt and pulled him closer, so desperately he couldn't even think about what he was doing until his lips were finally against Dean's, the taste of whiskey meeting the bitter aftertaste of the pills Cas has swallowed and the smoke of a thousand things Dean was unable to recognise. It was needy, and raw, and intense, qualities that Dean had never been able to imagine in Cas, and even though he was trying to find the will to push him away, he realised that he was defenseless. Even if that wasn’t his Cas, he had dreamed about that for too damn long to let it go.

 

“Dean”, breathed Cas in his mouth, when there was no oxygen left between the two of them. He rested his forehead against Dean’s and kept his eyes shut, his whole body trembling in Dean’s arms. Dean didn’t remember when that’d happened, but it just seemed right.

 

“I’m here, Cas”, said Dean, even if the certainty of how wrong that was was growing louder and louder in the back of his mind.

 

He looked for his lips again, and he kissed him slower this time, passionately, until he felt Cas’ warm tears against his skin. Then, he just pulled him closer in a tight embrace, Cas’ face looking for the crook of his neck and fingers clawing at Dean’s back. He didn’t say anything, he just stayed there, holding Cas as he sobbed uncontrollably against his chest, holding back his own tears. He had never seen Cas cry, he wasn’t even sure if the angel was able of such thing, and that was just another reminder of how broken and abandoned Cas was, the warrior that was not able to fight anymore. And Dean knew, the same way Cas knew, because there was no other way for things to happen, that that was only the beginning of the end.

 

“Do you really think saying yes to Michael wouldn’t change things?”, asked Dean, after a long moment of silence, Cas breathing coming back to a normal pace.

 

“I don’t really know”, Cas answered, sounding terribly tired. “One way or another, we always end up here. At the very end”. He looked up, until his red eyes found Dean’s again. “So don’t say yes, Dean. If there’s a chance for things to change for the better, you’ll lose it if you say yes”. That was the first time he sounded really determined, as if he had gone back to the angel he was for a moment, a new sparkle shining in his eyes. Although Dean hadn’t even considered saying yes to Michael, then he wouldn’t do it for the world. “Promise me you won’t say yes, even if Dean tries to tell you that that’s the only choice you have”.

 

“I won’t say yes”, said Dean, reassuringly. “I won’t abandon you, either”.

 

“You have to. This is not your world”.

 

But that was a world where he had finally been able to taste Cas’ mouth, to hold him in his arms until he felt the beating of his heart matching his. Even if he was still unable to tell him how much he loved him, which somehow was for the best, since he wanted to say that out loud for the first time to his very own Cas, that was so much more than what he had in his reality. He didn’t care about the Apocalypse, he didn’t care about Lucifer, he didn’t even care about his near future.

 

All he cared about was right there, in his arms. Even if he wasn’t an angel anymore, he was still able to make him feel holy.

 

“I love you”, said Cas, a soft hum against his chest. He didn’t even look up, getting drunk in the characteristic smell of Dean’s shirt, which was the perfect representation of his own Heaven. Like their heartbeats, their minds seemed to be synchronised. However, Cas had seemed to forget that that wasn’t the Dean he was meant to love.

 

“I’m not your Dean”, reminded him Dean, which hurt more than he would admit.

 

“Well, you look more like him than mine does”, sighed Cas. He was so damn tired.

 

“You have to tell him. He deserves to know. You both do”. As much as he’d like to pretend he deserved that, he also knew that they didn’t have a lot of time left for them to figure things out.

 

“Why would I do that?”, asked Cas, almost laughing his sad and broken laugh again.

 

“Do you still think he won’t love you back?”, asked Dean, his hands looking for Cas’ face, so he would look him in the eye. It was like the first time they met, all over again, only that time, Dean was playing Cas’ role, and viceversa.

 

“He doesn’t care anymore”.

 

“Of course he does. He wouldn’t be so ruined if you were still an angel. He cares about you more than you think. He loves you, Cas. He needs to know you love him, too”.

 

What a hypocrite, telling Cas what he should be telling himself. He would call Cas in the middle of the night only to hear the sound of his voice, so desperate he was for the angel to be with him, to feel the loneliness that sometimes seemed to be too heavy to carry upon his shoulders disappear for a moment, maybe forever. Still, he was too much of a coward to cross the line he had drawn himself, too long ago not to think of it as a natural element surrounding his very core.

 

Cas found his way to his lips one last time, taking his time to kiss his heartache away. Dean, even though he had finally come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t the Cas he needed, didn’t resist, tasting what it would be his last time being completely true to himself in a very long time. Once it was done, and with one last look that was hiding the whole universe in it, Cas left the room.

 

He left Dean alone, as he had always been.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn't notice, this whole story is inspired by (besides SPN's 5x04, of course) the poetry of Tyler Knott Gregson. You should definitely check him out if you don't know his work! Also, I hope you're liking this so far. Comments are highly appreciated!

_“I love you,_   
_in ways_   
_you've never been_   
_loved,_   
_for reasons you've never been_   
_told,_   
_for longer than you think you_   
_deserved_   
_and with more_   
_than you will ever know existed_   
_inside_   
_me.”_

  
_― Tyler Knott Gregson, _ Chasers of the Light: Poems from the Typewriter Series

 

Dean had only been able to see Castiel’s enormous wings once; that was also the last time he was able to spread them behind him, black feathers glistening and filling the cold air as they fell from the angel’s tired bones, coating the ground around him. When the last feather touched the ground, falling from the skeletal shape of his dying wings, all that was left of celestial in him was gone for good.

 

He didn’t stop crying for days, as if something inside him had snapped the very moment he couldn’t feel the weight of his wings in his back anymore. He hadn’t even cried before, and then, feeling the burden of his own human soul, he couldn’t stop doing it. Even though Dean tried to make the pain go away, Cas seemed to be very far from him, too far to even realise Dean stopped coming to him because he thought he was making him worse, not because he didn’t care about him anymore. He was part of the problem, after all: maybe he wouldn’t have any humanity within him to start with if he didn’t pull him out of Hell. As Dean’s soul would always have some of Cas’s Grace, Dean’s soul infected Cas’s Grace to the point that it was only a matter of time that it spread like a disease, reaching to every corner of his being. Maybe Cas wasn’t human because of the circumstances, maybe he became a human because of Dean. His fault. He was convinced, after some thinking and a few bottles of whiskey, that Cas was better off without him.

 

Of course, he couldn’t be more wrong.

 

Dean was looking thoughtfully at a huge map that was spread on top of the table. He was always thinking about the same thing, whenever he was alone. Sometimes, it didn’t even matter if the world was ending. Was it really worth it if all that was left was just that? For the first time in his life, he didn’t see a point in fighting anymore.

 

He heard a knock on the door. He wasn’t expecting anyone, so he didn’t answer. However, the person on the other side wasn’t going to give up so easily.

 

“Dean”, he heard. He didn’t need anything else to know it was him. That was the first time in a very long time that Cas came to him. He felt his heart rate increasing.

 

“Cas?”, he asked, as if it wasn’t obvious.

 

“Can I come in?”.

 

Again, Dean didn’t say anything, so Cas just opened the door and entered the room, looking for him with his blue eyes. There was something different about him, but Dean couldn’t put his finger on it.

 

“What’s wrong?”, said Dean, while Cas closed the door and rested his back on it, taking a deep breath. He wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t really important, and good things didn’t happen at all those days.

 

“I need to talk to you”.

 

He had his very own speech, of course. He had meticulously rehearsed in his head every single day since he stopped coming by every day to check on Cas, and it was probably the best set of words he had ever put together, the only truth that was still real in that apocalyptic world. If they were going to talk then, he had the right words, he had all he had ever wanted to say to Cas carefully stored in a special place in his mind, the only corner he never allowed his other thoughts to reach, because that was also where he kept every single memory he had ever shared with his angel, the happiest place within himself.

 

However, by the time Cas was standing in front of him, so close he could count the freckles on Dean’s face if he wanted to, the hunter realised that all that was left in his mind was the reflection of the skies inside Cas’s eyes. And he was drowning there.

 

“Dean”.

 

The way he said his name made it sound sacred, intimate. Dean liked the way his name sounded with Cas’s voice, coming from Cas’s lips, the way the mark with the shape of the angel’s hand on his shoulder seemed to burn whenever he was close enough to make his voice a whisper that only Dean could hear. He had missed him so much, he could feel his shoulder aching, to the point that it was almost unbearable.

 

“I’ve missed you, Cas”, he said, and it was true. Even if he saw him every day, it was as if they had been living in different galaxies. It was the only thing he was able to say, but it seemed to be enough to make Cas smile, something he had not seen in a very long time.

 

“Me too. I really thought you didn’t care anymore”.

 

“What made you change your mind?”, asked Dean, trying to ignore the voice in the back of his head telling him that, once again, everything was ruined because of him.

 

“You”.

 

“I don’t…”.

 

“There’s something I need to tell you”, Castiel interrupted him, as if the words could no longer be kept inside him. He seemed more nervous than Dean had ever seen him. “If this is it, I don’t care anymore”.

 

“Cas…”. Dean tried to talk to him again. He was growing more and more scared by the minute.

 

“I love you, Dean”.

 

And even before he could process what Cas had just said, before the world as he knew it disappeared before his very eyes, the angel who had fallen for the righteous man he thought he was, pushed him against the wall behind him and kissed him the way only a heavenly creature would do it, all raw passion, love and the atonement of a lifetime.

 

Time seemed to stop. Then, it moved slower than it used to. Dean’s mind was still trying to comprehend that all that was happening was real, that it wasn’t him finally going insane. Cas looked real, too real to be a product of his imagination. The way he kissed was that of an expert, which really surprised Dean, and although it was a desperate kiss, it was also gentle. Like the touch of a lover.

 

Dean’s eyes were still closed when Cas broke the kiss, his forehead resting against his hunter’s while a sigh died in his lips. His hands finally dared to touch Dean’s face, timid fingertips that found their way to his cheekbones, his chin, all they could touch that belonged to him. The fallen angel had spent too many years waiting for that to happen, and then he wasn’t able to bring himself to stop. Though time had never been an issue for him, as he used to have eternity for himself, it was finally running out. It was almost ironic, to think that all that was left of his own existence used to be no more than a second in his notion of things as an angel. He had loved humanity, but he definitely hated being a human, seconds that now seemed like centuries to his feeble soul. However, Dean had made all the difference. He liked the way he made him feel, the way that passionate kiss had felt as if his Grace was back to heal all the damage inflicted to his wasted and worn out vessel. Maybe, humanity wasn’t that far from Heaven as everyone thought; maybe Dean, with his impossible green eyes and his ability to stop time, was the exception. Either way, for the first time in a very long time, Castiel wondered.

 

“You are so beautiful”, Dean said, and Cas realised, too late, that Dean was the one that was then cupping his face, staring at him while he thought about how much he loved him and mourned for the loss of his Grace for the hundredth time.

 

“But I am broken”, he answered. He used to be beautiful once, when he still had his black feathers. Then, he was nothing but the shell of a man.

 

“That doesn’t mean that I don’t love you”, said Dean, fingers caressing Cas’s swollen lips. “Because I do. I really do. I love you, Cas”.

 

That was all Castiel needed to hear.


	4. Intermission #1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very short chapter, but I hope you enjoy it anyways! There is more to come very soon.   
> As I have previously said, comments are highly appreciated!

_“Find my hand in the darkness and if we cannot find the light, we will always make our own.”_   
_―_ _Tyler Knott Gregson,_   Chasers of the Light: Poems from the Typewriter Series

 

It wasn’t easy, accepting that the end was truly near, when it was only the beginning of the only good thing they both had ever had in their lives. That was the only certainty they had then, though.

 

They talked about it for hours, with short breaks where they would get lost in each other’s lips, eyes, skin. Dean was no longer the soldier and strong leader he used to be those days, slowly becoming the man Cas had missed so dearly, and though the mission Dean had planned suddenly seemed like the most unfair thing that could possibly happen, not being allowed to have some more time together, they also knew that it was the only real outcome to their situation. It was the Apocalypse, after all.

 

However, and even though Dean allowed himself to be scared for the first time since he had lost Sammy, to show some of that humanity that had destroyed it all, he didn’t mention how sure he was of his own near death. It didn’t really matter, if he would finally kill Lucifer.

 

“I should have taken care of you”, said Dean, soft fingertips brushing against his skin. He was thinking about all those things that could have made a difference there, in the end. It was too late now, but he couldn’t help himself. There was so much left for him to blame himself. “I should have taken better care of Sammy. I should have…”.

 

“Don’t think about what would have happened if you said yes to Michael. I still believe it would only make things worse. And I would lose you”. He had that soft, intimate smile Dean had seen for the last time a very long time ago. Then, it was sad, too. “I’d rather die with you”.

 

Dean didn’t say anything, but he pulled Cas even closer, his mouth meeting his with a sudden need. Of course, he knew that it was still hard for Cas to think about his own mortality, which gave that last sentence a whole new meaning. As an angel, he had never had to worry about those matters. Being human, falling for Dean, had changed so many things, it was really hard to keep up with the world, especially when he was too high to even realise it moved at a different pace. Being there, saying he would gladly die with Dean by his side, it meant so much more than what Dean could even try to imagine. He had never questioned Cas’s loyalty and yet, he was the one who had never even dared to leave his side.

 

Dean kissed him, and then kissed him again, and the conversations slowly died out until there was nothing else for them to say, words substituted by moans and growls under the covers of Dean’s bed, a place that suddenly became the shrine of their most sacred love, where Dean whispered “I love you” until he was unable to speak anymore, where Cas cried tears that, for once, hid some happiness in them. A place where they, as if it was scripture, tried to become one with all they had.

 

Cas’s back was aching, missing the feeling of his feathers brushing against his body, but with the touch of Dean’s fingers against the invisible scars on his skin, it was almost bearable. Even when he was trying not to think, he couldn’t help but to wonder: how was it possible to find happiness among all that sorrow? Maybe he hated being a human, but humanity would never cease to surprise him.

 

Especially if “humanity” answered to the name Dean Winchester.

 

By the time the sun came up again, they had made love, finally.


	5. Intermission #2

_“Photos I’m not in_  
_and memories we don’t share,_  
_haunt my lonely eyes.”_  
―   Tyler Knott Gregson

 

Dean fell asleep when his body wasn’t able to keep him awake anymore. He tried with all the strength he had left, though. It wasn’t only that that place seemed to hide unknown dangers everywhere, the constant feeling of being observed crawling up his spine and making him paranoid, but also, he couldn’t stop thinking.

 

Thinking about Cas, as always.

 

He had decided to stay in the cabin where he had found Cas. He told himself it was because he had no other place to go and that that world was too hostile for him to just wander through it, but he knew that it was because, secretly, he was hoping Cas would return to him, making him feel those foreign but very real butterflies in his stomach. Although he had done the right thing, telling Cas to go look for his own Dean, there was still a dark part of himself that really wished he hadn’t done that, maybe the same part that knew that he’d never have the guts to tell his Cas how he felt about him. Somewhere within himself, there was a deep and obscure desire to just take what was being offered to him, take his chances with Cas even if that one wasn’t the right one, wait for the end to come and know that he had had the only thing he really wanted, even if it was only for a heartbeat.

 

He would gladly die, if that meant he could love Cas the way he deserved it.

 

As it had happened his whole life, Dean was being torn apart, divided into two different beings that coexisted inside him: the man he had always wanted to be and the boy he really was when no one was looking. Because, in Dean’s world, he could never be more than the hunter, the brother, father and mother he had always been to Sammy, the heartbreaker who would never settle down with someone, because that wasn’t what men like him were supposed to do.

 

And yet, his heart only beat for his blue eyed angel, the heavenly creature that had proven to him that he had more in common with him than anyone could imagine, a warrior and silent guardian who, still, was gentle and patient with him, more than he deserved. He would have died for him and he had almost done it more than once, but he didn’t even care. Castiel had been the first thing that reminded him he still had a heart and that it was still beating, and the world had never been the same again.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, let me know what you think in the comments! xx


	6. Chapter 6

_I will not look back_

_and wonder_

_what would have been_

_if I only would have tried._

_I will try until broken,_

_rise_

_until there is nothing_

_left._

\- Tyler Knott Gregson

 

The next time Dean saw the future version of himself, there was something different about him, and he didn’t have to wait to see the truth in Cas’s eyes to know: all he had dreamed about that very same night, with Cas’s smell still present in his bedsheets, all that he had pictured so clearly in his mind and maybe more, it all had happened. As he had wished so many nights in his own universe, they had come to terms with what they felt for each other, and not even the dying world around them could take that away from them.

 

He had woken up very early in the morning, and although he would have loved to stay there for a little bit longer, imagining a thousand different scenarios in which he was just there, lying with Cas, he decided not to wait for someone to come up looking for him. After all, he knew where future Dean’s cabin was and, as he had also learned the previous day, that was the day where everything would change, for better or for worse. Even if he knew that that wasn’t his universe and that that wouldn’t be his future if he didn’t follow future Dean’s steps, he couldn’t help himself but to feel anxious regarding the events that would take place in a matter of hours. To be honest, he didn’t even know what his role in that scenario was supposed to be. Would he have to stay there until the very end? Whatever the case, he knew he needed to talk to future Dean. That was probably his only chance to do so, if he was gonna fight Lucifer, face to face.

 

However, he wasn’t expecting future Dean’s words, the first thing he said to him as soon as he approached him in the cabin:

 

“You’re coming with us”.

 

Although he had been present when they discussed their plan, which had made it difficult for him to realise that future Dean had changed somehow since the previous day, he hadn’t considered following them to what seemed to be a certain death.

 

“Why would I…?”, he started, but he was interrupted by his future self, who seemed to have thought about it long and hard.

 

It wasn’t until then that he realised that they were alone, everyone else getting ready for the imminent mission. For some reason, that made him feel uneasy, and not only because of what he knew about that other Dean.

 

“You’re coming because I want you to see something”, answered future Dean, to the unfinished question. After quite a long pause, he added: “I want you to see our brother”.

 

It took Dean a moment to process the information he had just heard. During that time, he just stared at future Dean. Even though it wasn’t the first time he was standing in front of someone who basically was a different version of himself, it was still surprising how little he looked like him to his eyes. And then, he had said that.

 

“Brother?”, he asked, clearly confused. “But Sam died in Detroit”. He knew that, future Dean had told him himself. Sam wasn’t alive in that universe. How could he be?

 

“No”, answered future Dean, his voice suddenly becoming lower and his eyes darker. “He said the Big Yes. Lucifer is wearing him to the prom”.

 

Silence came back, thicker and more suffocating than before. Of course, that was what that son of a bitch Zachariah wanted him to see in that future. Not Cas. Not the end of the friggin’ world. Just Lucifer, wearing his baby brother as if he was some kind of tailored suit. Even though he had always been aware of that possibility, the mere thought made him feel sick.

 

“I want you to see this so you can do things differently. I don’t want to kill our brother, but I don’t have any other choice”. For the first time, future Dean looked as if he was on the verge of breaking down. However, and after a deep breath, he seemed to recover. “When you get back home, you say yes. You say yes to Michael. Even if Cas…”.

 

“He doesn’t want me to say yes”, completed Dean, trying to take some of the burden from future Dean’s shoulders to carry it himself, give him another moment to breathe. However, mentioning Cas was like a punch in the pit of the stomach, considering the circumstances. “He thinks there has to be another way”, he added. “I think so, too”.

 

“I was cocky. I never thought I'd lose. But I was wrong," he answered. “Dean, I was wrong. I'm begging you… say yes”. Future Dean looked crushed at that point. “But you won't”. He knew, of course. “Because I didn't. Because that's just not us, is it? I bet you haven’t told Cas about your feelings either”.

 

“You and me, we’re not that different”, said Dean. Even his future version was pathetic. He felt sorry for himself.

 

“I was you at some point”, answered future Dean, shrugging. Although he still looked just completely wrecked, he allowed himself to smile. It was sad, but that was better than anything Dean had gotten from him so far. “I still don’t understand why he’s here. If I were him, I would have bailed with the other angels”.

 

“I guess Cas is not like the other angels”.

 

“He’s not even an angel anymore. That’s on me”.

 

“Maybe that’s for the best. Angels, dude. They’re not that great as they had always made us think”.

 

Future Dean didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he moved from his place in the room, right across the table from the past version of himself, and he poured some bourbon in two glasses he put on top of the table, taking one of them and offering the other one to past Dean, who swallowed its content in one gulp. Considering how tense their relationship had been up until that conversation, it was almost nice, being there, together. Even if they weren’t having the most intimate conversation, it felt like something special, a very close moment with someone that suddenly seemed incredibly important. It was ironic, considering that no one despised Dean Winchester more than Dean Winchester did.

 

“Take care of Cas, you listen to me?”, said future Dean, after a moment in which he realised he wasn’t able to think about anything else. If his past self had come all the way there to learn something about his own situation, that was the most important thing he should remember. “Angels are sons of bitches, but you have to make sure you keep Cas as one of them”.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m not planning on becoming a douchebag”.

 

Dean smiled, and he was surprised when future Dean smiled back at him. Seeing him like that, he didn’t look so tired anymore. However, it almost made it sadder: it was in that moment, as if they suddenly shared some kind of secret bond that allowed them to know what the other was feeling, when Dean knew that future Dean had come to terms with his near death, whether that happen or not. And even if he was asking past Dean to take care of the wrong Cas, it was as if he was sharing with him his last will.

 

 _Here lies Dean Winchester, a douchebag too much in love with an angel_ , his own epitaph would say.

 

How could he not think of himself as a pathetic moron?

 

And yet, all he wanted to do was break down and cry. For himself, past and present. For Cas, and all the stories that didn’t even have the chance to be written. For the world, forsaken world, way too broke to fix.

 

“I guess I should thank you”, said future Dean, who suddenly seemed to be too far away from there. His eyes were wandering through the room, and Dean could’ve sworn there were tears falling down his cheeks, but future Dean was too determined not to let Dean see him cry. “I know Cas would have never told me what he felt if you weren’t here. I don’t know what you two talked about, and I don’t really care, but I needed this”.

 

Dean didn’t know what to answer. Future Dean was the one who deserved that, after all. Not only was that Cas his Cas, but also, he was the one who was probably at the very end of his existence. Whatever happened between Dean and Cas before Dean asked him to go look for future Dean, it didn’t matter anymore, even if he’d never forget it. If he was to meet his end without letting his own Cas know how much he meant to him, at least then he had that.

 

“So, is this what happens? Will it take me this long to tell Cas he’s the one?”. Even though it was a depressing realisation, Dean laughed at that thought.

 

“Well, if you want to make things differently, that’s a start”, answered future Dean. “I did it all wrong, and maybe I won’t be able to make it up for all my wasted time, but you still have a chance. With Sam, with Cas. You need to say yes to Michael, but even if you don’t, you need to be the man I wasn’t able to be when the time is right. This can’t be the only future possible”.

 

Again, Dean couldn’t help himself but to feel sorry for the man in front of him. Maybe he was a douchebag, but he hadn’t been like that all his life. Circumstances made him that way, for better or for worse. Survival, which was almost a miracle in that world. Dean still had some time left, but it just seemed unfair that future Dean didn’t have the same opportunity.

 

He was about to say something, when they heard a knock on the door. Even though that had only happened once in the span of four months, future Dean was able to tell that it was Cas at the other side. However, what both men inside the room saw when future Dean asked Cas to come in, it wasn’t what they were both expecting to see. At all.

 

If someone told past Dean that his very own Cas had made it to that reality, he would believe it. At least, at first glance. The trench coat, the messy tie and suit, everything seemed to be in the right place. He stood there, in the same awkward way the angel used to stand when he didn’t know what was going on around him or when he wasn’t sure how to start talking, because human interaction was still a mystery to him, and it wasn’t until future Dean came closer that he moved, a faint smile showing up in his face.

 

“Cas?”, future Dean said, his voice a mixture of surprise and adoration. Dean felt something similar to that crawling in his insides. Maybe there was still something painfully human in that Cas, his eyes too red and with pupils too dilated to be his angel’s, but that was the closest thing to home he had been able to find in that place.

 

“I just wanted to know if you’re ready. We are waiting outside”.

 

And that was when future Dean realised that maybe that was his last chance to be with Cas. And though that fact hurt him like a knife through his chest, the fact that he was there, with him, and that he was able to pull him closer and kiss him until there was no oxygen left in his lungs, it also filled him with an indescribable bliss. And that was exactly what he did, while the past version of himself standing there just wondered if he could ever have just that, his whole existence being held in the arms of someone he trusted enough to allow him to do so for a holy moment.

 

No one was there to see the tears falling down his face, anyways.

 

“I am so sorry”, whispered future Dean, his forehead resting against Cas’.

 

“I told you before, there’s nothing to be sorry about”, answered Cas. If he had sounded really tired before, now his voice was that of someone who just had given up.

 

Of course, Cas knew. Even as a human, he knew Dean too damn well not to realise that he was sure he wouldn’t make it to that night. And even though under other circumstances he would have fought against that to the point he would be willing to sacrifice himself so Dean could live, he also knew that no one else could do it. And if Dean was to die that day, maybe it was for the best. For the both of them.

 

Dean knew he shouldn’t be staring at such an intimate scene, but he realised he wasn’t able to look away. Even if he had died more than once and somehow he had made it through more than a couple of goodbyes, he had never had to say goodbye to Cas, especially, knowing that, if he died that time, there was no coming back. He wondered if he would be able to endure that the way that future version of himself was doing it. He had probably had a lot of time to come to terms with it. Having Cas for a day was still better than not having him at all.

 

And Cas’s eyes, even if it was the wrong Cas, were then upon him to remind him of all he was missing out. Even if Cas had then all he had dreamed of, his arms still around his Dean’s neck, he couldn’t help himself but to wonder about the other version of Dean he had met, the one that had awaken all those dead feelings inside him. The one who had made him realise that he was still alive. He was there, staring at them with a foreign longing in his eyes, far enough to give them the privacy they needed while still being a part of the picture. For his Dean, who was still looking at him even when his eyes started wandering through the room until they found past Dean’s eyes, it was as if there was no one else in the room. It was true, in a way: that man was still him, brought into the future so he could witness the madness that was about to fall upon him. However, and even if he remembered that Dean, Castiel couldn’t help himself but to think of their differences. There was something about him that he couldn’t get out of his head.

 

“Cas”, said future Dean, but he didn’t look away from past Dean. He noticed the ghost of some tears in his cheeks, and he smiled at him in the softest way possible, as if he really wanted to kiss his pain away but there was something holding him back. Which was true, literally. “Cas”, he repeated, when he didn’t get an answer. Of course, he didn’t sound happy about the situation.

 

“What?”, Cas finally said, his eyes going back to future Dean for a moment, amused by the effect his interest in past Dean had on him. “I still like past you”.

 

Although Dean was well aware of his jealousy tendencies, being jealous of himself was a whole new level. He would have laughed, if he didn’t feel as if Cas was taking his breath away, even if he wasn’t looking at him anymore. How could he make him feel that way, when he wasn’t even the man he fell in love with?

 

“We should go”, said future Dean, letting go of Cas, although he didn’t sound annoyed anymore. Cas’s hands moved from his neck to his arms and held Dean’s hands for an instant that seemed to stretch to eternity. Even if he stopped for a moment so he could contemplate the other man in the room with them, there was still nothing else in the world for him. He needed to hold on to him, or else he would fall. Who knows where.

 

“Are you sure there is no other way?”, Cas whispered, even if he knew the answer. They had talked about it before. He had thought about it for as long as he was able to remember. He knew, but the closer they got to the moment of truth, the more it hurt.

 

“Would it be me if I gave up without a fight?”. He thought about all the things that he had wanted to say while he saw Cas losing all that was left of angel in him, his feathers slowly falling to the ground until it was completely covered in silky iridescent black. What Cas was feeling then, it was probably similar to what he felt that moment.

 

Cas's answer to his question was another kiss, only that this time it was wet by the tears that were falling down his cheek, the urgent need of the beginning replaced by a silent prayer for him to come back, for the powers that be to keep him safe. Even if he had come to terms with the fact that it was probable that Dean would die, he wasn’t sure he would be able to stand it. And he was scared, even more scared than when he realised that he was human and that what was left of his existence was nothing but a sigh. Dean kissed his forehead and held him in his arms for one last time. Then, without a word, he left the room.

 

“Dean”, said Cas to past Dean, this time not even trying to look for his eyes. He dried his face with one of the sleeves of his trench coat and sighed, before he continued. “When you go back to save the world, because I know you will, see if you can save us both, too”.

 

Dean wasn’t sure of what Cas meant by that, but he just nodded. At that moment, it seemed important to Cas to know that he wouldn’t allow that to happen to him and his own version of Cas.

 

And that was the true beginning of the end.


	7. Chapter 7

_ I am so tired _

_ of feeling like  _

_ a shattered vase _

_ across a _

_ slippery floor _

_ and I am so tired _

_ of watching you  _

_ tip toe around _

_ the pieces so you _

_ do not cut _

_ yourself _

_ on me. _

\- Tyler Knott Gregson

 

Even if future Dean had assured him that he would be alright, past Dean couldn’t help himself but to feel anxious the moment they got to the vehicles that would take them to the block where future Dean was sure he would find Lucifer. He wasn’t even armed, and though the Croatoan virus wasn’t nothing new to him, future Dean’s words about how efficient, incurable and scary it was were still ringing in his ears. If things didn’t go according to plan, he would be more than dead, and he wasn’t sure Zachariah would save him from that, as soon as he was in danger.

 

The plan. That was another issue. 

 

Future Dean, even if he knew he would get yelled at by his past self, had told him about how he wasn’t able to perform his original plan anymore. Using the team as bait, which seemed the most easy way out of the Croatoan situation, was not an option anymore. It wasn’t that Dean didn’t care about his people before his night with Cas, but something had definitely come back to life in him after that, and he didn’t feel able to do that anymore. Maybe it was hope, maybe it was the realisation of the heart that was still beating in his chest. Whatever the case, they would fight, at least, until future Dean was able to get to Lucifer and use the Colt to finally kill the devil. That made things more complicated, even if that had seemed impossible before. Suicidal, perhaps.

 

He was in the car with Cas. It was the first time they were alone since all that had happened between them, and though he knew that Cas wasn’t aware of half the things he knew regarding Dean’s plan to defeat Lucifer, he didn’t say anything about that. Dean’s plans had already seemed too reckless in Cas’s eyes, even if he would follow them blindly, and he didn’t need to know that the new plan was basically that there was no plan. Instead, he just looked at him while he was driving. Cas seemed to be pondering about something, his eyes fixed on the road, and he didn’t even notice Dean’s eyes lost in his profile. That was all the peace they would find before everything else went down.

 

“Tell me something, Cas”, said Dean, after thinking about it for a while. “What happened to you?”. He had asked him that before, the first time he saw them, but he hadn’t stopped thinking about it.

 

“You mean, besides all that you already know?”, asked Cas, who finally looked at him, inquisitively. His eyes were still red from the tears he hadn’t been able to swallow in front of future Dean, and that was still a sight that impressed Dean in the wrong way.

 

“Why the drugs and the orgies and all that stuff?”. 

 

Cas shrugged. Even if he looked like the angel Dean knew, he was nothing like him.

 

“You know about Dean and me, how things were going before you came here. I guess I was too hopeless to do anything else. Hapless. Powerless. Drugs and sex make things easier around here. Decadence. It’s the end. That’s what decadence is for, right?”.

 

He seemed to remember something, and he looked in the pockets of his trench coat until he found a small bottle, that he contemplated for a moment with the saddest look that was humanly possible.

 

“But I don’t need this anymore”, he said, although his eyes were still looking at the contents of the bottle with something that resembled longing. “I don’t want to forget whatever happens. I don’t wanna forget you, or what happened yesterday. Even if I’m still as useless as I was, I want to make something right”.

 

Thus, he threw the bottle out of the window. Those were the pills he had stored up in case he gathered strength enough to swallow them and let the lights go out before his eyes. Even if he felt the withdrawal crawling in his skin, there was no going back. At all.

 

Dean drew a sad smile on his face and said nothing, but his hand looked for Cas’s arm and just rested there, the familiar fabric of the trench coat warm against his fingers. Maybe he would have done the same in his place, if he didn’t become whatever future Dean was. However, if it wasn’t because he was seeing it with his very own eyes, he would have never believed that was once the same Cas he knew. It broke his heart but also, it was the thing from that future that gave him the more determination to keep fighting to his very last breath.

 

“We’re almost there”, said Cas. His eyes were back on the road, but this time, he was clearly avoiding Dean. “When we get there, you will follow Dean”, he continued, in a tone that reminded Dean of his own Cas, all authoritarian. “Don’t try to be a hero, okay? If something happens, we need you alive”.

 

“Okay”.

 

“Promise me”, he insisted. His voice almost broke for a moment, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles turned white.

 

“I promise, Cas”.

 

They didn’t say anything else until they got to the place where they were all gathering, which only made what was about to happen more ominous than what already was. Future Dean was already there, holding a machine gun in his hands while he displayed that emotionless mask he had when he met past Dean back on his face, the perfect soldier and leader of that people. That was the man that Dean abhorred, but that was also the man who knew he would kill the devil.

 

If that was meant to happen or not, it was only a matter of time.


	8. Intermission #3

_You_

_are more_

_and I_

_will risk a life_

_spent as_

_less_

_to help you_

_see it._

\- Tyler Knott Gregson

 

Even though the place didn’t look like the hot spot they thought they would find, there was something in the air that reminded of danger. The team, once they were all together, was hiding behind some rusty cars right in front of the block future Dean had mentioned while discussing their plan of action, and they were all waiting for him to tell them how to proceed while he was having a look around with some binoculars. Again, there was no one around.

“This looks like a trap”, said past Dean, and future Dean already knew that was the truth. However, that was the only way to get to Lucifer.  
“We will go all together. Once they appear, we split up. You will cover me while Dean and I look for Lucifer”.

Cas nodded. He was the only one who answered to Dean’s commands. The rest, they just quietly followed him.


	9. Chapter 9

_ You _

_ were the excuse _

_ to begin _

_ living _

_ again. _

\- Tyler Knott Gregson

 

If someone asked Dean how did all happened, he wouldn’t be sure of where to start. It was messy, and confusing, to say the least. In a moment, they were all running from their hiding place, arms ready in the cold light of day and the fear of dying long forgotten in the back of their heads. Cas led the group, once future Dean told them to go in the opposite direction, and although past Dean’s only command was to follow future Dean, since he was unarmed and didn’t know the way to Lucifer’s possible location, he couldn’t take his eyes off Cas, which made such a simple task something almost impossible, as the place, that had been unnaturally silent until they reached the gates of the building, was becoming more and more crowded with all the Croatoan-infected people that were determined to kill them, to make the end come even sooner.

 

It was a second, in the midst of a war that wasn’t his own, and future Dean, as if he had never been there, was gone.

 

Just a few of them, against Lucifer’s apocalyptic army.

 

Dean could hear his own heartbeats.

 

Even if he was the most obstinate fighter to ever grace the Earth, with his added concern about Cas on top of his shoulders, he decided that the only thing he could do was to ran away. And so he did it: he ran, until he could no longer see the fighting, until he couldn’t hear a single sound.

 

That was when he reached the quiet place. The eye of the storm.

 

The place where, although he had been trying to tell himself that that wasn’t true, that that wasn’t his world or his future, he found Sam.

 

Future Dean had found him before he got there, but it took past Dean a moment to realise he was already there: not for nothing, he was lying down on the ground, between the green grass and the wet soil, the Colt out of his reach among the green blades. Sam’s boot was pressing down against his throat, to the point that he wasn’t able to scream and tell past Dean to run away, to hide and wait for the end to come because that plan had been the most reckless thing they had ever done and Cas’s fears were right and real.

 

He was there, looking at Dean, trying to say all that with his red eyes. A moment later, the same way he had disappeared from the battlefield, he was gone, bones cracking and breaking under Sam’s boot. Lucifer’s.

 

But he didn’t look like the devil. At all. In front of Dean, still looking at the lifeless body of his future self, there was the Sam he knew from his own reality. There was nothing different about him, except for the satisfaction with which he contemplated the corpse of his own brother, killed by his own hand. That was worse than witnessing the Apocalypse, that was for sure. Even if Dean wanted to feel something for future Dean, who probably deserved so much more than that after all he had done to protect his own people, all he could think of was that that could be his own future, and having a Sam who wasn’t Sam anymore, a Sam that was able to kill his own blood without a moment of hesitation, and that would even smile at that, was the scariest thing he could think of.

 

“Oh”, he said, when he finally looked up and found yet another Dean standing in front of him. He looked lost, confused. Almost scared. Lucifer rejoiced. “Hello, Dean”. He was unimpressed, as if he was expecting him to come, maybe have some tea before it all went down.

 

Lightning filled the sky, as if that was a sign. What had looked like a beautiful but abandoned garden, turned out to be a cemetery. Sam stood there, as if he owned the place. Another truth that turned out to be a lie.

 

“Aren’t you a surprise!”, he exclaimed, a new smile across his face. A wicked smile, even if he was still wearing the same clothes Dean remembered, even if he was trying to look like his brother. He was nothing but a parody, a poor copy that couldn’t even resemble the original. But damn, it hurt. In a second, he was no longer in front of him, but right behind him. “You’ve come a long way to see this, haven’t you?”, he asked, his voice low and close, almost in an intimate manner.

 

But Dean had never wanted to see that. He would give his own life to protect Sammy any day. That was an abomination. That, and he realised just then, was what made him different from the dead man in front of him. He would never allow that to happen.

 

However, it was impossible to detach himself from the reality he was in. Even if he tried to remind himself of the mantra he had invented to protect his own sanity, he couldn’t let go. That was his Sam, and he had failed to protect him. Being there, he couldn’t care about anything else at all.

 

“Well, go ahead. Kill me”, he said, fighting back the tears. He wouldn’t give Lucifer the satisfaction of seeing him cry. However, Lucifer didn’t seem to care. He knew he had won, and nothing could change that. Sam’s eyes, that used to shine so bright, like sunflowers, were then dull and dead, like everything else in that nightmare world.

 

“Kill you?”, he asked, tilting his head in a way that reminded Dean of his very own Cas. The thought made him shiver. “Don’t you think that would be a little… _redundant_?”. His eyes were then upon the lifeless body of future Dean, his eyes still wet and staring at past Dean, still his quiet warning in the back of his head like an itch he couldn’t scratch. Someone should be crying for him, but at least it was relief that Cas wasn’t there to see that. Life could go on without a leader, but not without what makes a heart beat.

 

Lucifer sighed, and something seemed to change in him, as if Sam was still there, somewhere deep down his own body, that had then become his prison cell. He got closer to Dean, and even his gaze seemed to be different, looking at Dean in an almost loving manner.

 

“I’m sorry”, he said, softly. As the liar he had always been. He was really good at pretending to care, to the point that he was almost able to believe his own act. For a moment, that insignificant human became his brother, and the pity in his eyes was as real as it could possibly get. “It must be painful, speaking to me in this… shape. But it had to be your brother”. It was almost as if he wanted Dean to understand. “It had to be”, he repeated, and he looked even more hurt than before. That was wrecking Dean more than anything else up to that moment.

 

Lucifer closed his eyes for a brief second. He could hear Sam Winchester’s desperate voice inside his head. The acting, like a bad joke, was becoming something real. It was the first time in a very long time that Sam dared to fight back. After all, he was the one who had said yes to Lucifer, and he knew that, then, Lucifer was all he had left. It was too late for him, the same way it was too late for that world that was about to end. However, seeing Dean, the Dean who died, maybe the wrong Dean, it awoke something in the younger Winchester, something that had been dead for too long. It almost made Lucifer happy, listening to the desperate screams for him to let him go: even if Sam was nothing but the suit he was wearing to prom, he had grown fond of that very obstinate human, even if he was the one who was making him feel that weak in front of the other Winchester, who clearly noticed that something was happening within himself.

 

“Sammy!”, he screamed, tearing down the walls he had built so Lucifer wouldn’t see how much that was destroying him. If there was a change to bring Sam back, even if it that wasn’t his own Sam, he would do all he could. “You have to fight him! You can do this!”.

 

But of course, he couldn’t. He was still nothing but Lucifer’s suit.

 

Lucifer sighed, still the master of his own deception. He looked back at Dean with that rehearsed sad look of his and lift his hand until it rested on one of Dean’s cheeks, who seemed to be too impressed by the gesture to even try to even get away. With a sad smile, he got closer, to the point that Dean could feel his warm breath against his face when he talked.

 

“Sam Winchester belongs to me now”, he hissed, which contrasted with the loving way his fingertips caressed Dean’s face, in a way it made Dean’s skin crawl. In a way, it sounded as if he was trying to convince himself of that. Even if he had acted all contained up until that moment, then, he looked extremely angry. Maybe he was gonna finally kill him, and he didn’t even care. “Don’t push your luck”, he added, as if he was reading Dean’s mind, remind him of how easy it would be for him to kill him. However, he didn’t seem to have any intention of doing something besides talking. The silent anger in his eyes, though, was the stuff of nightmares.

 

“It wouldn’t matter if you kill me now. You’re gonna destroy the planet, anyways. What’s the difference?”.

 

Lucifer got away from him and quietly contemplated the scenery around them for a second. As his gaze settled on a lonely rose close to them, all the anger seemed to go away.

 

“Why would I want to destroy this stunning thing?”, he asked, as if he was surprised by Dean’s words. “Beautiful, in a trillion different ways. The last perfect handiwork of God”. He almost smiled at that. “Have you ever heard the story of how I Fell from Grace?”, he asked, his attention back on Dean.

 

“Oh, good God. you're not gonna tell me a bedtime story, are you? My stomach's almost out of bile”, Dean said, trying to sound more confident than what he actually was. 

 

He didn’t like the way Lucifer looked at him, the same way he didn’t like it there, standing in front of the cold corpe of future Dean while Lucifer seemed to have forgotten about him. There was still that unknown need for him to do something kicking the back of his head, but he didn’t know what to do, not when he was having a conversation with Satan himself.

 

“Brother”, Lucifer said, after a moment of silence in which he seemed to be looking for the right words to say. He seemed surprised, the same way Dean was surprised to hear those words coming from Lucifer, but when he finally dared to look him in the eye, he realised he wasn’t looking at him.

 

There was someone behind him. And he knew who that someone was.

 

_ Please, don’t be you. _

 

But Castiel’s eyes met his when he finally turned and found him there, his trench coat all ragged and dirty and blood all over his face. All of Dean’s fears seemed to be suddenly becoming real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter and a longer one today! I hope you enjoy them. Feedback would be highly appreciated!
> 
> xx;


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a very special chapter that I hope you enjoy even though it is the saddest thing in this story.   
> Comments are highly appreciated.
> 
> xx;

_“I am yours_  
 _and I will whisper it_  
 _and shout it_  
 _and write it_  
 _and carve it into my skin_  
 _if only blood_  
 _would tell you_  
 _the truth you need to see._  
 _I am yours_  
 _and I have never_  
 _been anyone's before.”_    
― Tyler Knott Gregson

 

“Are you okay, Dean?”, Castiel asked, ignoring Lucifer, who was clearly not used to that. There was concern in his voice, almost desperation, and Dean realised he was shaking at the sight of Castiel, of all the things that came with him. 

 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that the end wouldn’t come any easier.

 

“Cas, you need to go”, said Dean. Cas was so focused on him, on making sure he was fine, that he didn’t even realised there was a body lying on the ground. The right person he was looking for. He didn’t know, even if there was a voice inside his head that had told him that it had happened already, that he was there for a reason. He didn’t know, and Dean really wanted to keep that that way.

 

“It’s over, Dean”, he said, almost in a whisper. The pain and the sadness were so intense, they made his senses completely numb. He moved his hands to his sides, and the gun he was still carrying just dropped to the ground, not too far from where the Colt was. Everyone was dead, and if Lucifer was still alive, that could only meant that he had to surrender.

 

And then, Castiel saw him.

 

It was as if someone took all the oxygen from his lungs, and the light from his eyes. Even though he already knew there was no possible happy ending to that story, seeing Dean, the same Dean he had raised from perdition and had tried to protect until he couldn’t do it anymore, was so devastatingly painful, that there was no facing the facts that could make it any better, that would make that sight something easier to witness.

 

Dean.

 

Dean was dead.

 

He just stood there, a silent tear falling down his cheek. He thought about doing something, a thousand different things, but he was barely able to keep on breathing, feeling his heart in his chest like he had never had the chance before. If that was like dying felt like, no wonder humans were so afraid of it.

 

But he was not dying. He was still alive. Alone.

 

Suddenly, there was no Lucifer, no Apocalypse. There was no sky, no cemetery. There was no Dean, because that one standing in front of him, he wasn’t his very own Dean, the one that had given his existence some meaning, the one that had become his only one, everything. Then, there was nothing. How could it be, if he was gone?

 

He was tired. He was really tired.

 

And that’s when he finally dared to move and go to him. Where he belonged.

 

Dean was already cold when he touched him, eyes open and staring blankly to the sky, maybe something else he wasn’t able to see. His bright green eyes, that were still bright to Castiel even on its darkest days, were nothing but two dull dead things he couldn’t stare for too long, too afraid of losing his memories of how they really were, while Dean was still alive. He wrapped his arms around him, lifting his body until his head was resting against Cas’s chest, and kissing his forehead, the tip of his nose against Dean’s light brown hair, he finally broke down.

 

He couldn’t do that anymore. Without Dean, he was nothing. At all.

 

_ I’d rather die with you _ , he had told him. And he'd really meant it. God, he wasn't even there for him. Dean died alone, doing the only thing he thought he was meant to do in what was left of his existence in that world, and there was nothing that could change that. There was nothing that, from that point onwards, could make the pain go away.

 

“He shouldn’t have tried to kill me”, said Lucifer, breaking the thick silence that was filling the air.

 

“Shut up”. Castiel didn’t even look at him. Even though he knew that he was completely powerless then, particularly in front of Lucifer wearing his true vessel, he couldn’t care less. He needed to mourn Dean, and not even Satan himself would take that from him.

 

“You’re better than this, Castiel”, Lucifer insisted. “Always siding with the hairless apes like they’re…”.

 

“SHUT UP”, he cried, and he finally raised his head and looked at Lucifer, right in the eye. 

 

Lucifer seemed extremely offended by that but, surprisingly, he didn’t do anything. As if he was waiting for something else to happen, he just stood there, quietly.

 

Time stopped, as it happened the first time they finally kissed, which seemed a lifetime ago. However, there was nothing soothing about it then. There was no bliss, no blooming thoughts. Dean had always felt so warm against Cas's fingers, and holding his cold body was like holding to someone else, looking for comfort in something that was meant to only give sorrow.

 

“I am so sorry, Dean”, he whispered against his skin, his eyes closed and wet by the tears. “I should have been here. I should have…”. He seemed to get lost in his own words. “I love you. Wherever you are now, please, don't forget that I love you”.

 

But he knew that it didn’t matter how many times he said he loved him, he would never make up for all the lost time they had spent in silence, waiting for a miracle to happen. It didn’t matter how many times he said he loved him, he would never answer back.

 

He was his, and he had never been anyone else’s before. What else could he do?

 

Silence, to take the pain away. It was raining, but they were not getting wet.

 

“Brother”, said Lucifer, somehow softer than before. It seemed as if a whole lifetime had passed in front of their eyes while Castiel was crying, pouring all he had left inside over Dean. He didn’t answer. “You don’t have to stay here. Humanity is done. For good. All the angels bailed, but I am still here, and I am offering you a way out. You were never like the rest, Castiel”. This time, Cas didn’t even look at him. Maybe the pain was too much, maybe he didn’t care anymore.

 

“I was the only one who cared about Father’s creation”, he said, his voice all broken. “Maybe I loved it too much for my own good. But if that was my mistake, so be it. Don’t come here and play the victim when you are the one who ruined everything. Like you always do, Lucifer”. His eyes finally met his, and Lucifer could see the rage Castiel had never shown with anyone else before. “I can’t even call you my brother anymore”.

 

Of all things done and said, that seemed to be the first one to really make a difference in Lucifer. Suddenly, he didn’t look like the Sam Dean knew anymore. It was the first time since he had arrived there that Lucifer wasn’t playing a part, and the sight could only be described as horrifying.

 

“Cas”, said Dean, finally deciding that it was time to intervene in that story where he was nothing but a background character. There was still that unknown ache in his chest, contemplating Cas holding the dead body of his future self, and the look on Lucifer’s face made him realise that he had to protect him, that it was too late for future Dean, but maybe it wasn’t too late for that Cas, even if the empty look in his eyes told him that he really didn’t want to go on. “Cas”, he repeated, when he received no answer. He approached him slowly, carefully, and put his hand on his shoulder. Cas, as if he had forgotten that there was someone else there, shuddered. “You have to go. You have to let it go”.

 

Cas looked at him, and what Dean saw broke his heart the way it was supposed to break seeing that, contemplating the end of the world taking place in the arms of the man he used to call his angel. No human was meant to suffer that way.

 

“But I can’t”, he whispered, and his voice broke the way that it had been trying to do for quite some time.

 

Dean looked at Lucifer again, cautiously. He was still there, in complete and utter silence. Something was brewing in his mind, and Dean didn’t want to be there to see it happening. He looked for one of Cas’s hands, cold and wet, and he got closer to him, as much as he could.

 

“Of course you can. He wouldn’t want this, Cas”. He put his other hand on top of Cas’s, and tried to smile. “Don’t you think he deserves at least that?”.

 

Cas didn’t say anything, but he looked at him, long and hard. Even if that wasn’t his Dean, he was the one that had started it all, the one that had brought hope back into his life and had shown him that all he believed in was wrong. If anything, he had made the end of his existence something worth living, bearable. That was the Dean he had to protect and keep, and that was exactly the very same Dean he had lost, way before his own was dead in his arms. If there was nothing left for him to do to save his own Dean, at least there was still something he could do for that other Dean, who still looked at him as if he was the answer to all the questions in the universe. He hated that look, but he had missed it very dearly.

 

And finally, he let go of Dean.

 

It suddenly felt like trying to breath underwater, all the weight of the world crushing him again. He closed his eyes and tried not to look at Dean, and thankfully, there were a pair of hands there to hold him, to make him feel the warmth his Dean was not able to give him anymore. He closed his eyes and tried to forget, his head against his chest and the soothing sound of his heartbeats, and everything seemed to be okay for a moment.

 

That is, until Lucifer decided that it was time for him to unleash the beast within his own chest.

 

Of course, not even Dean saw that coming, too focused on Cas to even care about the world around him, even if it was the most dangerous place on Earth. He had finally been able to make Cas stand up again, even if he was holding him with his arms, and he was so cold it was as if he was dead already, unable to stay alive if his Dean wasn’t there anymore. It was surprising that they were both still alive, actually, even if Lucifer had told him that killing him would be a little redundant, since he had already killed the future version of himself and he was really meant to go back to his own time, because Lucifer was too sure of his victory to even try to stop that from happening.

 

He had not said anything about Castiel, though. And he had insulted the king of the new world.

 

“You are pathetic”, Lucifer said. He had suddenly appear in front of Dean, right behind Cas, and there was still that look on his face that made him look like the inhuman creature he was. Dean couldn’t stare at that for too long, not when he was still wearing his brother’s face. “Why should I show mercy?”.

 

And even before he could get an answer, Dean felt a wave of warmth all over his chest, wet, almost nice. He looked down and he found Cas’s eyes, and the horrible truth started to make sense the very moment he saw the light leaving his very blue eyes, a very thin red string falling down his chin from between his lips. He found Lucifer with his eyes, trying not to look as horrified as he was, and all he could see was the Devil, the brightest smile on his face, holding Cas’s heart on his right, bloody hand.

 

Cas had smiled softly, still looking at Dean, and that’s all he could do before Death finally came and set him free.

 

After that, the world turned black.


	11. Epilogue

_Sometimes you look up and there just seems to be so many more stars that ever before. More. They burn brighter and they shine longer and they never vanish into your periphery when you turn your head. It's as if they come out for us and to remind us that their light took so long to come to us, that if we never had the patience to wait, we never would have seen them here, tonight, like this._   
  
_That as much as it hurts, sometimes it's all you can do, wait, endure and keep shining, knowing that eventually, your light will reach where it is supposed to reach and shine for who it is supposed to shine for._   
  
_It is never easy, but it is always worth it._

  
― Tyler Knott Gregson,  _Chasers of the Light: Poems from the Typewriter Series_

 

It was like waking up from the most horrible nightmare imaginable, only that he was still covered in Cas’s warm blood by the time he opened his eyes and found himself lying down on the grass, the cloudy day turned into the darkest of nights, in a place he wasn’t able to recognise at first, yet it felt so different. He was back home, even if the silence around him didn’t confirm what he just simply knew, and it wasn’t until he got back up, the cold air of the night burning in his lungs, that he realised what had really happened before he faded away, what he witnessed before he was pulled back from that reality and Cas’s corpse became nothing in his arms. 

 

He had seen him die.

 

His worst fear, he had seen it happen, and he hadn’t been able to stop it.

 

He had witnessed the end of the world, and he had survived. He almost felt sad, being there while the other Dean and that very human Cas he had had the chance to meet were dead, killed by the Devil himself. It would make sense if he was dead, too, or maybe that was him finally losing his mind. Whatever it was, he didn’t feel relieved for being free from the Apocalypse and back in his own world, where he could still make a difference. He was expecting to feel joy, maybe some hope he was unable to feel before seeing what he could then avoid, the tranquility that only a home could bring. Instead, there was only an unsettling emptiness, devouring his very core.

 

That was, until he heard his voice.

 

“Dean?”, Cas said. Because it was him. He could recognise his voice anywhere.

 

It was as if everything suddenly fell back into place, broken machinery pieces magically fixing themselves to make things happen the way they were meant to be. For a moment, he almost felt okay, even if he was still covered in Cas’s blood, from his clothes to his face. His own Cas was there, and he was okay.

 

And then he saw him, and all his walls came down.

 

➖

 

At first, Cas didn’t understand what was going on. He was still staring at the screen of his phone, standing on a quiet side road —or maybe it was quiet because it was late, and that was a time during which humans were usually fast asleep, ignoring how close they were to the end of the world. Dean had asked him to wait until it was morning, and that left him with nothing to do, which was a weird situation in a scenario where there was so much left to do. Those were weird times for everyone, after all. However, they were especially weird  for Castiel, who still didn’t understand what was his part to play in the bigger picture of things. He was an angel of the Lord who had found his own free will, and though it was a freeing sensation, he was still trying to figure out what to do with it.

 

And that’s why he had Dean, after all.

 

Or was it? What was exactly Dean, to him?

 

Before he could even begin to try to find an answer to the never-ending question that popped in his head from time to time, something changed.

 

It was as if he had summoned him, as if such a thing was possible with humans. The screen of the phone turned black, but a new light nearby was turned on, so bright it could only be one thing.

 

“Dean?”, he asked, and he was almost surprised when he heard a noise right behind him, something moving among the grass. He was really there, but that was impossible.

 

Castiel turned around, in time to see Dean’s green and wet eyes before he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, as close as it was humanly possible. Dean hadn’t said anything, but it was crystal clear that it was the real Dean Winchester, and he seemed to be…

 

Blood. There was blood all over him.

 

“Are you hurt?”, Cas said, his arms still to his sides, trying to process that Dean, the same Dean that was constantly reminding him of the need of some personal space between them, was then hugging him so tight that, if he was a human and needed oxygen, he would have trouble getting some. It felt too good, though.

 

“It’s not my blood”, Dean said, his face pressed against the familiar fabric of Cas’s trench coat. He wouldn’t say that the blood was actually his, though. “It’s so good to see you, buddy”.

 

“Is everything okay, Dean?”. He didn’t sound okay. At all.

 

“No. Yes. It’s…”.

 

He looked up. It had been minutes since he had had future Cas in his arms, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. Could he explain what he was feeling? Could he finally tell Cas what he really meant to him?

 

“Where were you?”, Cas asked, after the silence that followed Dean’s confusing and incomplete answer. Clearly, he wasn’t where he thought he was when he talked to him.

 

“Zachariah sent me… to the future. I was in 2014. He wanted me to see what will happen if I don’t say yes to Michael”.

 

“And what did you see?”, Cas asked, staring into Dean’s eyes as if he could find the answer to his question before Dean answered it himself.

 

“I saw Sammy”, he whispered. It wasn’t easier than saying that he had seen him, but he realised he wasn’t able to just say that he had really seen him, that he had loved him and that he had died in his arms. The future was ugly enough, either way. “Lucifer was possessing him. He said yes, and Lucifer was annihilating humanity”.

 

“Do you believe it was because you didn’t say yes to Michael?”, Cas asked. His hands finally moved, as if they had a will of their own, and he wrapped his arms around him. It felt right, even if that wasn’t the usual thing between them.

 

“No”, Dean said, firmly.

 

“Will you say yes?”.

 

“No”.

 

He moved one of his arms until his hand could touch Cas’s face. He was usually very cold, since he wasn’t human, but then, he was surprisingly warm, perhaps because Dean needed that. He closed his eyes for a moment, as if reacting to the touch.

 

“We will make our own future, Cas”.

 

And of course, Cas knew. He knew, the same way he knew many other things that Dean couldn’t even imagine. They were no more that flashes, images here and there that were part of a bigger picture he wasn’t allowed to see, but he had been to the future, their own future and not an alternate reality where things didn’t go according to plan. The world wouldn’t end, not on his Dean’s watch, and rejecting Michael wouldn’t change that.

 

But he couldn’t tell Dean, because he had promised his Father he wouldn’t, in exchange for those flashing moments that gave him the strength to keep going even when he felt he couldn’t do it anymore. He had the certainty that Dean would be his one day, that he would finally love him back, but he just didn’t know when.

 

And so, he waited. As he always did, when it came to Dean.

 

However, Dean seemed to be the one waiting for him then, when he finally allowed his mind to rest and got lost in Dean’s emerald eyes, as he did many times before. There was something different that time, something that he couldn’t describe but that made him feel butterflies in the pit of the stomach that were trying to escape his body. Was that the moment he had been waiting for? It felt like something familiar, yet new and exciting. Truth be told, there was nothing he wanted more in the world.

 

“You were so different”, said Dean, almost a whisper. It was as if he was talking to himself, instead of addressing his words to Castiel. “There was a moment I thought I would never see you again”.

 

“I wouldn’t allow that to happen”, answered him, like it was obvious that, no matter where Dean was, Cas would always be there to save him. It was all he knew.

 

“Would you stay with me even if that meant that you would lose it all?”. 

 

He regretted his question the moment he asked it. He remembered Castiel saying that he didn’t serve him, that he wouldn’t always come. Maybe it was still too soon for that Cas to decide that Dean was everything, even if he had stayed around since the very moment he raised him from perdition. Breaking his heart one last time that day was the last thing he needed.

 

“Of course I would”.

 

His heart skipped a beat.

 

“You mean too much to me, Dean”.

 

Dean’s fingers were digging in Cas’s back. Saying that he was scared was an understatement. There it was, the moment he had been waiting for. Even if Cas hadn’t said that he loved him, that was the closest he had ever gotten. Maybe the world would come to an end three years from then. He had no time to lose.

 

The tip of his nose brushed against Cas’s. Like the rest of his body, it was surprisingly warm, which once again reminded him of how could future Cas had felt while dying in his arms, that feeble smile in his lips because he was finally free from that world. He could feel his breath against his lips, and his sweet smell of wood and something like honey, the home Dean had never had the chance to have. Maybe Cas wanted that, too, or maybe he didn’t moved away because he didn’t understand what that meant, and he knew that Dean needed him. He was too scared, to the point that he was shaking in Cas’s arms. Fighting monsters was not even half as bad as that.

 

“I am so sorry”, he whispered, against Cas’s lips. He wasn’t even touching them, but even that was enough to make him feel clean and whole. But he couldn’t do it, not then. He was still carrying the weight of the broken pieces of that dead world on his shoulders.

 

And so, he broke down and cried, like he had been wanting to do since he saw Lucifer wearing his brother and his own body dead on the ground. Even if they could avoid that future, he would never forget that.

 

Cas, as always, didn’t say anything. He only held the pieces that made Dean Winchester and waited until he could put them back together. He had done it once, in Hell, and he would gladly do it a thousand times more. Whatever it was that Dean needed, he would provide.

 

He used to long for the stars. Then, he only longed for Dean.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so the bit from Cas's perspective where we see that he already knows things that will happen and how he can't tell anything about it because he promised God, that's part of another story I'm working on at the moment. I hope you enjoyed it (as much as I enjoyed writing it!) and that it wasn't too confusing at times. If you want to read more, please, let me know!
> 
> xx;


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